


The Undead World

by StarFusion617



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M, Newt is already dead sorry, Probably gonna add some more characters later, Undead, Zombies, did not plan this out, i am so unreliable for updates, i tried guys lol, this just happened, we’ll see if it’s even good
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-07 01:50:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18400706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarFusion617/pseuds/StarFusion617
Summary: Minho watched his best friend die in front of his eyes, and he couldn’t do anything about it.Thomas lives on his own, threatened constantly by enemies, and doesn’t trust anyone.When they find each other in the middle of the city, attacked by zombies and surrounded by the broken remains of buildings, they must learn to work together in order to survive.





	The Undead World

**Author's Note:**

> So I know I should update IWYWHS but I have writer’s block and decided to write some other stuff first. Sorry about that.

_May 19_

_I don't know who I should fear most--the dead, or the living. Zombies are powerful, strong, and fight in large groups, but they don’t have the intellectual capacity to deceive or betray, to spin webs of lies and false hopes. People, on the other hand, battle as a one-man army or in small groups but strike when least expected. They are wary of everything and anything, but I suppose they have reason to. I, myself trust no one, and I fight alone. I have not found another loner yet, nor have I found a group to join. Maybe someday I will find someone to fight by my side, someone whom I can put my trust into. However, I can’t hope to ever be able to trust another being with my life. I stopped being optimistic long ago, on the night Teresa betrayed me._

 

Thomas looked up from his journal, tucking the new pen into his pocket. His old one had run out of ink a few days back, but he had been lucky enough to find a new one yesterday. He put the journal in his backpack and peered up at the sky. The sun was just cresting the horizon in a new dawn, giving birth to a new day of crushed dreams and endless wandering. Thomas had been on his own for eight months, and he had seen mostly zombies. Recently, though, he had been spotting more people than he ever had before. They fought in numbers of two or three at most, and the occasional loners quickly rejoined with their groups after scouts and looting runs.

_Well, better to keep moving than to stay here_ , Thomas thought. The longer he stayed in one place, the higher the chance of someone, whether dead or living irrelevant, finding him. Without a group for backup, he would be as good as dead.

Thomas sighed and wearily stood, dropping the journal into his pack and zipping it closed. The ratty old backpack had once been for school, but after all this time and change, it had become ripped and worn, used only for traveling with necessary supplies. He briefly struggled to strap it onto his back, then reached back and grabbed his water canteen out of the side pocket. Taking a quick drink, he put it back and turned towards the city.

With some luck, he would be able to find the few things he needed from the general store and make it back into the forests and hills before noon. Even more luck, and he would see no one, either. Sometimes, it was all he could do to avoid the mobs of zombies and groups of people, most of them late high school kids like him. He hoisted his backpack higher and made his way carefully to the edge of the forest before setting off to the buildings rising up in the distance.

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Thomas arrived at the city's outskirts before long, the sun about halfway in its climb across the east sky. He jogged forward and passed skyscrapers smashed and broken, beams and frames hanging precariously from the skeletons of the structures. A stray metal bar fell from a nearby building as he watched and landed in a pile of rubble with a loud _boom_. Thomas jumped and raced onward, heading for the center of the city. Stepping over piles of bricks and metal, trying not to get cut on sharp edges and scattered glass took over half of his remaining time away. He made it to a flat stretch and ran for the next building, trying desperately to make up time. The sun had less than a quarter to go until it would reach its highest point. The zombies tended to be worse at night and in the afternoon, and Thomas had to hurry.

Just as he made it to the store he knew was not yet looted completely, thunder rumbled in the distance. He glanced toward the noise and saw thunderclouds rolling across the sky towards the city, still a couple miles away based on the next bout of lightning and thunder. Thomas shivered at the newly cooled air and quickly filled his pack with as many cans of food, pens, a few utensils, clothes, medicine, bandages, soap, washcloths, toothbrushes, and toothpaste tubes as he could find, which wasn't many. He managed to claw a water bottle out from under a tipped shelving unit and filled his nearly-empty canteen. The plastic bottle was discarded and the pack returned to his shoulders as he ran for the door. A low rumble of thunder came from outside, and he began to hear the _tink tink tink_ of rain on the roof of the superstore. He cursed and raced out the door, the growl reaching his ears over the sound of the now-steady rain half a second too late.

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Thomas turned towards the growl, but the zombie--this one larger than average--slammed into his side and half-tackled half-shoved him to the ground out of his own resulting imbalance. He instinctively held a hand up over his face and felt the thing's overgrown fingernails rake down his open palm. He hissed and curled his fingers into a fist, rolling onto his back and using the other hand to grab at the undead's face, trying to rip its head off.

He'd dealt with zombies before, of course, and detaching their heads seemed to be the only way to kill them except to bash their heads in with a baseball bat, metal rod, or some other heavy object. This zombie was smarter than its brethren, though, and effectively clamped its rotting teeth down over Thomas' forearm.

The boy yelped and shoved the thing off him with a sudden burst of adrenaline and a quick upward thrust of his legs. He only managed to get halfway to his feet before the zombie was clawing at him again. Suddenly the undead's weight doubled and Thomas was pushed into a nearby skyscraper wall, shoulder jarred against the hard metal. He groaned and turned with his back pressed against the sturdy surface, one arm up defensively. There were now two zombies before him, another quickly appearing behind them from around a corner.

Thomas lashed out with his functioning arm, the other shoulder on fire, and caught one of the zombies' heads. Blood from the cuts on his hand ran into its dead, sunken eyes as he yanked the thing sideways. Using one leg to kick its body the other way, he tried to duck the swiping arm but wasn't fast enough. The head separated from the body, and both dropped to the concrete with consecutive, wet _thuds_ , sickening in their heaviness. The arm fell along with the body, but not without leaving Thomas with three, faint, clawing scratches across his left cheek.

Before he could regain himself, the second zombie had raked a fingernail down through his eyebrow, scraping a jagged gash into his cheekbone and nearly all the way down to his jaw. Thomas cursed as he felt the resulting blood dripping off his face and down his neck, sticky and warm. The cut quickly became fire against his skin, burning almost too bad to bear. Thomas tried his best to ignore the pain and kicked at the zombie's legs.

The third undead had come up behind it and was fighting to get to Thomas, who was now properly cornered against the wall. The zombies covered his sides and any possible exits, clawing and moaning. He coughed at their rancid breath and shoved one's head back. The other took the opportunity to lunge for him, nearly toppling him. He held his ground, though, and managed to get the other in a weak, one-armed headlock while the first somehow got his chest in a crushing hold.

Thomas had decided he had found a new way to die by zombies: get crushed to death. He screamed with most of the air he had left, uncaring who might hear. The zombie escaped from his slackening hold and moved in front of him. With both creatures clawing at him, sandwiching him in the middle, he felt cuts open up on his shoulders and back as well as his arms and chest. His shirt was in tatters by this point, and Thomas realized that he wasn't going to get out of this alive. He struggled, although weaker, as the zombie behind him squeezed just beneath his ribs. His little remaining breath left him all at once in a barely audible _whoosh_ , and he felt his knees buckle. The zombie went down on top of him, making the pressure worse and giving him no room for escape. The one in front just tripped over forwards and landed on them both.

Thomas' vision started to blur, black spots dotting the edges and growing closer. He knew he should fight the things, at least make one last effort, but he was so tired. A warm, fuzzy feeling filled his ears, and everything became muffled and hazy. He tried to talk, to tell his parents somewhere up in the sky that he was sorry, that he had failed them, but no sound came out. He wouldn't hear it, anyways. The zombies' weight grew heavier as he relaxed, letting his body flatten onto his stomach on the hard concrete road. His pack had been lost sometime during the struggle, and the zombie had direct access to his cut, bleeding back. Thomas couldn't bring himself to care. He sighed and closed his eyes, hallucinating a far-away voice yelling, "Wait!" half a second before he let go.


End file.
